


Afternoon Tryst

by Alzerak



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Breast Fucking, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied Consent, Jon is a bit of a dom but Sansa is too, Masturbation, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Salty Teens, Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28531815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alzerak/pseuds/Alzerak
Summary: A visitor to Winterfell is completely unaware that he is the catalyst for sexy Jonsa shenanigans.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 9
Kudos: 70





	Afternoon Tryst

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enchanting lights (Jiya)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiya/gifts).



> Although I tagged underage, I never established Jon or Sansa's ages even in my own mind (though I definitely intended that Sansa is old enough to be part of this, which for me is at least 17, late 16 at a push), but since people might have their own interpretations of how old Jon and Sansa need to be, and others might interpret the meagre background lore as making them not as old, I figured it was safer to have a warning just in case.

Sansa spun around as she was yanked out of her stride, her father’s voice fading in the distance as the bustle of Winterfell came between them. Instinctively Sansa’s feet moved until they stopped, and Sansa caught her heaving breath.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Jon demanded, having pushed her up against the wall of the back of one of many of Winterfell’s buildings, secluded from immediate sight. One of his arms pushed his hand up firmly against the wall next to her, but Sansa was not intimidated in the slightest, staring right back at Jon.

“What are you talking about?” Sansa replied with a demand of her own. 

“Flirting with Royce?” Jon clarified. “Have you no dignity? You’re so much better than him.”

“I was not flirting with Ser Waymar!” Sansa retorted. “I was merely thanking him for the honourable service he would be providing the realm, especially us in the North. And speaking about dignity, you surely weren’t dignified, seething in the background like you were.”

Jon’s jaw was tight, almost as though he was trying to keep a growl clamped down from rising up from his throat, his eyes tracking down Sansa’s face down past her neck to the tops of the swells of her breasts, catching himself just in time.

“He wasn’t thinking of that kind of service.” Jon’s growl escaped, eyes flicking back to Sansa’s breasts.

“So now I’m being blamed for his actions?” Sansa asked acerbically. “Should I be blamed for you being a lustful bastard, staring at my breasts too?” 

Jon tried to formulate a response far too slowly, his eyes flicking down as Sansa’s hands moved, peeling the top of her dress down, exposing herself to Jon’s gaze. Jon whimpered at the sight of her bare breasts, perfect pink nipples tightening in the cool Winterfell air, the sight bringing his cock to full, painful hardness in an instant as he stepped back, pulling his arm away. Unfortunately, the this narrow corridor, there was practically only half a step he could take before running out of room, and managing to glance away from Sansa’s perky teats to her infuriatingly smug smirk.

“Are you going to think of your sister’s tits when you’re lying in bed tonight, crying as you take yourself in hand?” Sansa mocked. 

“I’m going to fuck you.”

“By all means, if you manage to find the courage and sneak into my room, you may have me as you wish.” Sansa rolled her eyes at the prospect. 

“I’m going to fuck you.” Jon repeated. “Right here, right now. I’m going to fuck your tight, noble cunt up against this wall. And when I’ve had my satisfaction, maybe, if you’ve behaved, I’ll let you cum.”

Before Sansa could formulate a response, Jon unbuckled his belt, freeing his ready and willing cock as the smirk dropped away from her face, her still bare breasts now heaving as she took in a breath in obvious anticipation of what was to come. Obediently, she turned with his strong hands as Jon guided her hips around, bunching her right above her bare arse as she shifted herself.

“No underthings?” Jon interrogated, reaching a hand between her legs to feel slick and wet. Sansa took her dress in hand, keeping it bunched up at her waist as Jon licked his finger, lips smacking as he moaned at her taste, Sansa balancing herself further as she widened her stance at the sound.

Jon stepped behind her. “You weren’t planning to give Waymar Royce one last fuck?” Jon demanded, growling in her ear despite knowing the answer even as he thrust his cock into Sansa’s slick cunny, preventing her from responding in any other fashion other than a melodious moan as he thrust inside her, no slow preamble taken as his cock sought the depths of her quim.

“Do you think Waymar would fuck you like this?” Jon demanded, flicking his hips back and forth as he fucked Sansa with vigour, one hand snaking into the thatch of beautiful, vivid red hair above her most private place, the other squeezing her perfect breast ever so gently, fingertips pinching her nipple, applying just the right amount of pressure to cause Sansa to moan aloud at the pleasure, forcing her to lean her free arm against the wall and bite her arm to keep from moaning further at Jon’s thrust.

“You’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He’d spend two seconds and barely a push into your sweet little cunny before he’d spill.” Sansa blushed at Jon’s words, her cunt squeezing his cock as the sensation and noticing a flush creep down her breasts caused Jon to lightly bite where Sansa’s neck and shoulder met, muffling his moans into her as she thrust her arse back in approval. 

“You’re mine, sister.” Jon growled, trying to regain control by shocking her. “Would you like your bastard brother’s seed in your tight little cunny?” Jon moved the hand playing between her legs up to her free breast, Sansa whimpering as she bit her lip at the lost of sensation as Jon kicked her leg aside so he could fuck her with greater alacrity, squeezing her tits roughly in his calloused hands as he did, Sansa admirably balancing herself against Jon’s frenzied thrusting. “My cock filling your noble quim with cum,” Jon continued, feeling the tell-tale signs of Sansa’s cunt tightening around him, readying itself to cum as his cock was. 

“Yes Jon,” Sansa responded between hitches of breath. “Fuck a Stark into me.”

Those words nearly undid Jon, but he just managed to keep his composure and hold his seed even as his hand barely covered Sansa’s mouth in time to muffle her loud moan as his cock thrust deep inside her at those words.

“On your knees.” Jon commanded, swiftly withdrawing his aching cock from Sansa’s wet and willing quim, in defiance of everything his body was screaming at him to do. Sansa spun around, Jon’s breath catching at the stunning beauty of her radiance, her brilliant blue eyes glinted with challenge over the peak he’d denied them both. 

“As soon as I’d cum inside that sweet cunny of yours, you would have cum too.” Jon growled in a low voice. “Now, you’re going to kneel down and I’m going to cum all over those perfect tits of yours. And because you thought you were so clever exposing yourself to your lustful bastard brother, if you want to peak, you will do so by touching yourself, on your knees before me.”

Sansa obeyed, hitching her dress up and kneeling on the ground, which was clean enough for ground, but the sight of the perfect Lady Sansa kneeling before him, teats and cunt exposed was enough for Jon’s cock to flick as he took himself in hand, stroking back to his body as he closed his eyes, desperately to allow Sansa a few seconds to bring herself as close to peaking as he was. 

A split-second later, his eyes snapped open at the feel of a warm, wet envelopment around the tip of his cock, Jon involuntarily thrusting forward at the sensation as he caught the image of his cock thrusting between Sansa Stark’s pretty pink lips, one hand holding her dress out of the way to allow Jon to look upon the other between her legs as she knelt before him, playing with her perfect little cunny as her head bobbed back and forth, her eyes glittering up at him as she looked every inch the dutiful lady, hands almost folded neatly in her lap, breasts bared as Jon barely contained himself.

“Don’t you dare make me spill in that perfect mouth.” Jon warned, realizing that the use of perfect might undercut his command. Sansa responded, swiveling her tongue around the head of his cock as sucked him vigourously in response, eyes challenging as she fucked herself on her fingers, releasing him with a pop just as he thought he couldn’t last a second longer, Sansa kneeling up as she pushed the arm touching her cunny against the side of one breast, cupping the other as she guided Jon’s cock between her tits, her wet slickness on his cock allowing him to glide between, before Jon’s first squirt of cum hit her neck and jaw, Jon taking control just as Sansa herself released a low, quiet moan of her own peak, kneeling obediently, hands folded in her lap as Jon’s cock exploded, rope after rope of his cum splashing onto her bare breasts, coating them in his sticky seed. Jon staggered back, utterly spent as Sansa stood.

“I’m sorry, Sansa.” Jon looked at her with his stupid dumb bastard ‘I love you’ face which was very stupid to everyone who saw it except Sansa.

“What are you talking about; I’m the one who suggested this in the first place.”

“Yes, but I shouldn’t be seething with jealously whenever someone looks at you. I know you could do so much better than me and…”

“You’re an idiot.” Sansa responded, with no fire in her voice. “I chose you. And you think I don’t get jealous when you flaunt yourself in training and those girls look at you?”

“What girls?” Jon questioned. “Why would they look at me for?”

“Idiot.” Sansa repeated, rolling her eyes as she crushed her lips against Jon’s in a passionate kiss. “But truthfully, you should be punished for using a Lady for your lustful desires.” Sansa agreed huskily, Jon obeying her pushing him down to his knees, Sansa stepping back against the wall, spreading her legs open and over Jon’s shoulders as he eagerly began to lick and lap at the sweet treasure between them, looking up to see Sansa rub her finger along her neck to collect as much of his seed as she could, licking her finger clean before pinching her teats as Jon bestowed passionate attention on every part of her delicious cunt, the taste of the sweet nectar of her cunt causing Jon’s cock to harden again, uncaring that it had just ejaculated all over her bare breasts. Sansa was close too, and Jon chained her pleasure as she began to peak over and over, her whole body quivering even as she lifted her legs off of his shoulders, almost falling down the wall as Jon allowed her to guide his cock back into her mouth, sucking intensely as his cock pumped his seed inside her, Jon pulling her back up to capture her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, tasting himself even as she swallow, his hands pushing her legs open as his cum splashed against her cunny, the last of his seed pumped inside Sansa Stark’s tight, slick, noble cunny as her final peak drew out the last of his seed even as he kissed her.

Utterly spent, Jon reached into his pocket to retrieve a handkerchief Sansa had created with her own hands and gifted to him, gently cleaning his cum away where her dress would not cover, before sucking each perfect nipple in turn then gently pulling her dress back over her breasts, before tucking himself back into his breeches and moving to see if the coast was clear.

“You know.” Sansa whispered in Jon’s ear as he watched. “Now that I’m filthy, I might have to take a dip in the hot springs.”

And having correctly deduced that no one was paying attention, Sansa sauntered off.

**Author's Note:**

> (The unexplored background lore is that Ned and Sansa and Arya escaped King's Landing and returned to Winterfell. Robert may or may not have died, but with no one in the South no one is bothering the North.) Anyhow, Jon never took his vows and Sansa's marriage stock has diminished with half the realm warring and her leaving a betrothal with the prince/king (or that's how Jonsa justify fuccing each other to themselves. ) Also, their brilliant, foolproof plan if Sansa ever has babe and it looks like Jon, then it's obviously Sansa's Stark genes, and if it looks like her, there's no problem. 
> 
> I was working on a potential sequel to
> 
> # 
> 
> [Product Testing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21619009) (sadly no guarantees there as I'm notoriously bad for starting works but never finishing them), when I was checking some old talk about kinkfics and saw this idea. For better or worse, it was the one I managed to get out in a few hours of writing.


End file.
